


Squees Birthday

by todd_casil



Category: I Feel Sick, Johnny the Homicidal Maniac, Squee (Comics), VASQUEZ Jhonen - Works
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-19
Updated: 2016-05-19
Packaged: 2018-06-09 10:16:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6901831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/todd_casil/pseuds/todd_casil





	Squees Birthday

i Did Not Write This, All Credit Goes To http://murderousmanic18.deviantart.com/  
Squee’s Birthday

“A calendar?” Squee questions.  
“Yup,” Johnny nods affirmatively as he rests the little desk calendar on the kitchen counter. Squee leans against the table and watches him curiously.  
“Why?” he asks.  
“Because I’ve always had trouble keeping track of time. Each day just begins to blend into another,” Nny explains, “so I figured having a calendar might fix that. All I have to do is cross off the past day at midnight and I’ll know what the current date is.”  
“That actually makes a lot of sense,” Squee comments.  
“Of course it does. Now, what month are we in? August?”  
Johnny flips to August and crosses off all the days to the sixth. As Squee examines the month, he can’t help the little “oh” that escapes his throat.  
“What’s wrong?” Nny asks.  
“Nothing. It’s just that August 7 is tomorrow,” he mutters.  
“Yeah, so?”  
“August 7 is my birthday.”  
“Your birthday?” Nny exclaims, a little more surprised than he probably should be.  
“Yeah. It’s no big deal,” Squee shrugs, “I’ve never celebrated my birthday before. I never got gifts before. The only reason I know about it is because Dad would celebrate me being a year closer to moving out. So it doesn’t really matter to me.”  
“I see,” Johnny mutters. Despite his words, Johnny can see the loneliness in Squee’s eyes. Of course that family would never celebrate anything like their child’s birthday.  
Johnny glares at the ground, hating this confused feeling in his chest. He sighs and marches out of the kitchen.  
“Where are you going?” Squee asks.  
“Out. I’ll be back later,” he replies curtly. Before Squee can say anything else, Johnny leaves the house, slamming the front door behind him. Then he starts his car and drives straight to Café Latte.

“Squee’s birthday?” Devi and Tenna exclaim, a little more surprised than they probably should be.  
“Yeah,” Nny sighs.  
“Aw,” Tenna coos, “why is that so adorable?”  
“I don’t know,” Devi replies, “as weird as it sounds, I’ve never actually thought about Squee having a birthday. Do you have a birthday?” she asks Johnny.  
“Of course I do! I just don’t know what day it is,” he replies, “anyway, he said it’s no big deal so I’m not going to do anything. Why should I? There’s no real point.”  
“If you’ve got it all planned out,” Devi says as she rests a plate of French fries in the middle of the table. “Then why are you here telling us about it? Wouldn’t it have been easier if we didn’t know?”  
Johnny tries to retort but he can’t think of anything to say. He hates it when Devi wins an argument. But she hates it when he wins an argument, so it all equals out.  
“You wanna know what I think?” she asks as she rests her tray on the table and sits beside him.  
“No, but you’ll tell me anyway,” he grunts.  
“I think you love Squee,” she smirks.  
“What? Don’t be ridiculous,” Johnny snaps, “I locked up feelings like love a long time ago.”  
“Johnny, there are many different kinds of love,” she scolds, “there’s romantic love, family love, friendship love. You can feel all of these loves for different people. For example, I love my mom because she’s family. I love Tenna because she’s my best friend.”  
“I love you too, Devi,” Tenna chimes.  
“And I theorize that you love Squee because…” Devi trails off and takes the answer into great consideration. “Because he’s your Squee.”  
“My Squee,” Johnny scoffs, not so much bewildered that she referred to Squee as an object but that she declared him Johnny’s.  
“You’re crazy,” he grunts, “I feel the same for Squee as I feel for every other human on this planet: absolutely nothing.”  
“Deny it all you want,” Devi shrugs, “but the fact is you care for him. Why else would you let him live with you?”  
Johnny growls angrily when he can’t think of a suitable answer.  
“Devi’s got a point,” Tenna comments, “as a person who claims to hate all of mankind, it is odd that you let Squee live with you. You even take him shopping.”  
“I don’t need a reason,” Johnny snaps as he stands up. “I’m leaving. Later.”  
“Hey! Pay for your food!” Devi shouts.  
“It’s Tenna’s food. I just joined in,” he retorts as he leaves.

Johnny grips and ungrips the steering wheel, irritated as he drives down the street.  
“Those two don’t know what they’re talking about,” he mutters, “I don’t love Squee. How ridiculous. And I’m not going to do anything about his birthday. I mean, what would I even do? Buy him a gift? Throw a party?”  
“I don’t know a damn thing about parties or even people to invite. Plus I hate them so,” he rambles,” and I don’t know what to buy him. So I’m not going to do anything.”  
“Having said that…” He parks the car in a large parking lot and glares at the large building to his right.  
“What the fuck am I doing here?” he sighs. He steps out of his car and grumbles to himself as he walks through the automatic doors into evil’s hangout place: the mall.  
Johnny sticks his hands into his trench coat pockets, his fingers curled around the handles of his knives, ready to slice open the throat of an asshole if- when- he feels the need.  
Alright, fine. I’ll buy him a present. But what should I even get him?  
Well, don’t people usually buy gifts for others based on their hobbies and interests? Then what are Squee’s interests?  
…writing.  
Nny sighs as he runs his hand through his hair. Sure he plays games with the girls and always watches cartoons with me. But his only real hobby is writing. Although I suppose that’s a hell of a lot better than my hobby.  
So what do you get for a kid who loves writing?  
Without an answer, Johnny just wanders aimlessly around the mall. Fortunately for everybody, nobody bothers him.  
Just when he’s about to give up and go home, something catches his eye. He stops and stares at the two items in a store’s display case, his eyes shining with realization.  
“That’s it.”

Squee’s eyes blink open. He yawns and sits up, running his hand through his hair.  
“Morning, Squee,” Shmee greets.  
Squee looks down at his teddy bear companion and smiles, “morning, Shmee.”  
“Happy Birthday.”  
“Thanks,” he sighs happily.  
Squee quickly changes out of his pyjamas and into dark jeans and a blue and black t-shirt. He trots out of his room and down the hallway to the kitchen. As he readies a bowl of cereal, he looks around absentmindedly for Johnny, but he’s nowhere to be found.  
“I didn’t hear him come in last night,” he mutters, “I wonder what he’s doing.”  
“With him, it’s probably better not to wonder,” Shmee comments.  
“Yeah, I guess,” Squee chuckles.  
He sits down on the couch, resting Shmee on the cushion beside him, and turns the TV onto a random cartoon.  
He spends the next hour or so eating three bowls of cereal and watching stupid, funny cartoons with Shmee. For a minute he begins to think this is how he’ll spend his whole day- which wouldn’t be so bad- when the front door suddenly flies open and Devi and Tenna jump in.  
“Happy birthday, Squee!”  
“Devi, Tenna,” Squee laughs, “what are you doing here?”  
“Throwing you a birthday party, of course,” Tenna beams. She’s holding a box that obviously has a cake inside while Devi has a gift wrapped box that is obviously a present.  
“But why? Did Johnny tell you today’s my birthday?” Squee asks.  
“Yup,” Devi nods as they sit on either side of him.  
“Then he should’ve also said it’s no big deal.”  
“Of course it’s a big deal. It’s your birthday, kiddo,” Tenna squeals.  
“Where is Johnny anyway?” Devi asks.  
“I don’t know. I haven’t seen him since yesterday,” Squee replies.  
“Typical. Can’t even be around for your birthday,” Devi scoffs.  
“So how old are you?” Tenna asks.  
“Um… thirteen,” Squee replies.  
“Woo, starting your teen years,” she exclaims excitedly.  
“I had my first date in my teens,” Devi says then glowers, “it did not go well.”  
“Anyway, we got you a present,” she squeals as she shoves the gift into Squee’s arms. “Open it. Open it.”  
Squee tears open the box, doing his best not to let his excitement show, but hiding emotions was never his strong suit.  
He lifts the lid off the box, revealing a brand new, white, touch screen cell phone.  
“A cell phone?” he questions.  
“Of course. Every teenager needs a cell phone,” Tenna smiles.  
“We already activated it and put our numbers on it,” Devi explains, “so if you ever need anything, don’t hesitate to call.”  
“You guys, this is too nice,” Squee laughs.  
“You deserve it, kiddo,” Devi smiles.  
They both their arms around his neck and hug him tight, cheering, “happy 13th birthday, Squee.”  
“Now, let’s eat cake!” Tenna demands. Squee and Devi agree enthusiastically.  
Devi and Tenna spend the whole day with Squee. After he blows out of the candles on his cake, they devour it while watching cartoons. Then they teach him how to work his cell phone and play a few games on the Amusement Station.  
They finally decide to go home around sunset, leaving Squee and Shmee alone in the house.  
“They didn’t have to make such a big deal about it,” Squee sighs as he stumbles to the bedroom.  
“Don’t pretend you didn’t enjoy it,” Shmee scoffs.  
“I did,” he smiles, “nobody’s ever made a big deal about me before.”  
“Well, they were right about one thing,” Shmee says, “you do deserve it.”  
Squee beams as he enters his room. He spins around and collapses back first onto his bed. But something blunt starts jabbing him between his shoulder blades.  
“Ow,” he exclaims as he sits up. He turns around and flips up his covers.  
Hidden underneath his blanket is a slim, professionally wrapped box with a cute, little bow.  
Squee’s eyes widen with surprise and amazement. He grabs the box and rips the lid off. Inside is a leather, black notebook with golden coils and a matching clasp. And resting right on top is a beautiful, pearl coloured fountain pen with a light yellow linear design.  
Squee’s face practically splits in half from his huge smile. He grabs the pen and looks it over excitedly. He unscrews the cap and beams at the fancy tip. There are even extra ink cartridges underneath the notebook.  
The notebook itself is very smooth and soft to the touch. Squee lifts open the clasp and flips through the pages. They’re all lined and numbered.  
As he starts to close it, he notices something written on the back of the title cover. Squee turns to it and instantly recognizes the familiar chicken-scratch handwriting.  
“Happy Birthday Squee. –Nny.”  
Squee jumps off the bed and runs out of his room. “Johnny?” he calls. He looks in the living room and kitchen, but there’s no sign of him.  
Just as he’s about to head back down the hall, he stops and looks at basement door.  
Squee smiles as he rests his forehead against the door, clutching his brand new leather notebook and pearl fountain pen to his chest.  
“Thank you for the present, Nny,” he whispers.  
On the other side of the door, Johnny clenches his fist tight as his chest aches with strange, unfamiliar emotions. He swallows hard and, through gritted teeth, mumbles something just loud enough for Squee to barely hear.  
“Happy 13th birthday, Squee.”


End file.
